


Good at Bad Ideas

by WhyMrSpook



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Bottom Kirk, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Late Night Conversations, M/M, POV Kirk, Smart Kirk, Space Husbands, Starship Enterprise (Star Trek), Vulcan Biology, vulcan hand job
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-17
Updated: 2017-05-17
Packaged: 2018-11-01 22:12:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10931052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhyMrSpook/pseuds/WhyMrSpook
Summary: “Full sentences are a waste of time.” He grinned wickedly, bringing their entwined hands up from between them and mouthing at Spock’s knuckles lightly. “What else could I possibly do with my mouth, Mister Spock?”





	Good at Bad Ideas

Jim’s eyes fluttered open when he felt the mattress dipping beside him. God, he was exhausted. He’d been drifting in and out of consciousness since he’d gone to bed, but even now he could tell it was still early. His limbs were heavy and the room was pitch black, not bathed in artificial sunrise. He wanted nothing more than to allow himself to drift back off, to slip back into nothingness and try and recapture that particular dream involving Spock, Bones and a talking chess board. Anything was better than letting himself become conscious enough to start worrying about tomorrow.

He didn’t let himself fall back to sleep though. He hadn’t seen Spock all day and he’d sort of missed him. It was almost pitiful. Jim had known true loneliness. He’d mourned his father, been abandoned by his mother and then his brother, and then been stranded on Tarsus IV, alone and terrified. But a few hours without Spock stood behind him on the bridge and he somehow became a whiny sod. It was so damn stupid to miss someone who was really never more than a few minutes away, trapped together on a beautiful hunk of metal, alone in space. But there it was. Spock’s duties as Science Officer had to lure him away from the bridge sometimes. It wasn’t like it affected Jim’s work, he was still perfectly at ease on his Bridge. But he missed that familiar blue in the corner of his eye. Far more preferable were the days that they were stuck sitting next to each other for hours on end in department meetings – on those days, Jim would lock their ankles together and feel that steady thrum of warmth coming from his boyfriend. He imagined they’d have lots of those days coming up soon, once tomorrow was over with.

“Sp’ck?”

“I apologise for waking you.” Spock had a certain gentle tone to his voice, like he’d just had a good few hours of incredible sex or meditation. Seeing as though Jim had been asleep, he figured Spock had probably just meditated before joining him in bed. It was a wonder he’d made it into the room without alerting Jim to his presence.

“I w’s listenin’ out f’you.” He moved closer, pressing his face into the heat of Spock’s side and dropping an arm onto his stomach. “Time is it?” He asked, lazily kissing the skin before him and letting his eyes close again. It was dark anyway, and Spock tasted exquisite whether Jim was awake enough to keep his eyes open or not.

“One in the morning, James. Sleep, you have an early start in the morning.”

Fucking hell, _one am_. In five short hours, his alarm would go off so he could trigger the red alert for a drill that only he and Spock knew about. Jim had known about it for weeks, orchestrating the specifics with Starfleet to test his crew. Spock hadn’t technically been supposed to know, along with the other department heads, but he’d deduced from Jim’s anxious little mannerisms. Or at least he’d figured Jim was slightly more stressed than usual, and Jim had given in and confessed. He’d told the Admiralty that Spock needed to know as his First Officer, and they hadn’t challenged him. It helped to have Spock know – eased his stress. Not that he was stressed. He had the utmost faith in his crew. They had, after all, survived enough disaster to have proven their capabilities. But they were all young, still, and the timing was going to be hard on all of them. Just before a shift switch was going to be a killer.

“Missed you today.” Jim said, winding their fingers together and smiling distantly at the way Spock reacted. “Worried about tomorrow.”

“If you insist on remaining conscious at this time, do aim for complete sentences Jim.” Spock said neutrally, as if he was quite happy to let Jim drop the kiss and roll over to sleep. Jim took that as a challenge, forcing his eyes open again and focusing on his boyfriend. Spock looked down at him through long lashes, his eyes so beautiful it made Jim’s breath catch, even in the dark of the room.

“Full sentences are a waste of time.” He grinned wickedly, bringing their entwined hands up from between them and mouthing at Spock’s knuckles lightly. “What else could I possibly do with my mouth, Mister Spock?”

“A better man would advise you to resume snoring and achieve satisfactory REM sleep prior to tomorrow’s demanding schedule.”

Jim’s mouth fell open, away from Spock’s hand, horrified. “I’m sorry- ‘resume snoring’?! I do not _snore_ , Spock, shut your dumb face.” Then, almost angrily, he tugged his hand from Spock’s and replaced it with his tongue. He, of course, realised he’d just shut his own dumb face- his tongue sweeping at the skin between Spock’s sensitive fingers. God, he was bad at arguing with Spock. But he’d wipe that half-smirk off Spock’s face if it killed him.

“I- I am not, it would seem, a better man.” Spock said quickly, only a touch of breathlessness about him. He didn’t seem remotely guilty about not being so, but Jim paused nonetheless.

“No, you’re the best.” He affirmed, significantly lowering the chance of a dry response of improbability from Spock by sucking on his forefinger swiftly. The result was instant; Spock tensed again, eyes transfixed on Jim still. Damn everything, Jim had sucked on a few fingers in his life but nothing, nothing, _nothing_ compared to Spock. He took the finger deeper, hollowing his cheeks and working his tongue around the digit slowly. He persisted for longer than he normally might have- though he was unsure if it was punishment for Spock’s stupid ‘snoring’ comment or genuine worship of his boyfriend.

“Sometimes it is more of a ‘purr’, Jim.”

Jim glared and took in another finger, sucking sharply and marvelling in the way Spock’s amused look slipped instantly from his face, and his breathing altered so that he was unlikely to let slip another impertinent little comment. Again, Jim wasn’t sure if he was supposed to feel triumphant or like he’d just been played into giving his boyfriend a fucking hand job.

“What else – could I possibly do with my – _ah_ – fingers, Captain?” Spock said then, replying to his unspoken, idle wonderings with a breathless quality that made Jim remember how fucking turned on he was. How hard he got turning Spock on. Jesus Christ- and now that Spock had put the idea in his head, there was nothing more he wanted than to feel Spock inside him. Honestly, it was late and he would have been happy with something quicker, less trouble. But fuck it- it was only a drill, anyway. He needn’t fret over a few hours less sleep.

Jim pulled his mouth off Spock’s fingers with an obscene noise and he grinned promptly, leaning forward to kiss Spock hard the human way. He pulled away only when he registered Spock tugging at his pyjama bottoms, and twisted up from the mattress to enable their swift removal. Spock climbed over him, pulling his bare legs apart and reaching briefly to his bedside table for Lube. His saliva soaked fingers stroked Jim’s hole for an infinite moment, while he reached down to mouth at his erection lazily. Jim just stared at the man between his legs and swore repeatedly. Swore to all the universe because how – how on earth had he gotten to this place? At what point had his life gone from bullshit to _everything_. Everything, with the man of his dreams perched at the bottom of their bed.

Jim was so transfixed, obsessed, driven completely to distraction by the mouth on his cock that he was taken by surprise when a slick finger worked slowly into him. He hissed through his teeth, heart thudding, Spock’s name repeating in his head so quickly he was sure the touch telepath was probably sick of it.

Another finger joined the first, working as slowly as Jim had sucked Spock’s fingers earlier. Damnit, was it payback or was Spock just taking his time? God, it wasn’t enough, not at all, but the entire process was making Jim burn inside out. Spock was a telepath; there was no way on earth he was oblivious to how fucking good it felt. Spock moved his head up, licking his lips quickly.

“A curious statement to make when we are, in fact, not on earth.”

“Jesus, Spock, would you fuck me already?!” Jim gasped in reply, hips thrusting up, desperate for contact. “And if you tell me your name isn’t Jesus I swear to god I’ll make you sleep on the couch.”

Spock’s only response was to ease himself into Jim, slick and hot and steady. Steady and composed, like he wasn’t taking Jim apart with each movement he made. Jim gasped and grasped at his lover’s back, hooking his legs around him and pulling, closer- closer.

“Fuck- Spock.”

“Jim.”

However eager Jim felt, there was still no sense of urgency. Spock worked at his own pace- not too slowly, but far from a desperate, ferocious coupling. It was passionate and intense in its own right, if unhurried. It said so much- so much that Jim thought he might have been shaking. Spock was breathing heavily, holding Jim and dragging his lips across his skin whenever he could, thrusting leisurely and hitting that sweet spot as if it were his second nature. Jim watched him, panting. His instinct was to beg for faster, harder, but he resisted. This was sweet and steady and perfect. If he wasn’t happy, Spock would have changed pace already.

“Jim-“

Jim reached a hand down to his own cock, taking his single gasped name as an eager recommendation to hurry the process along for both their sakes. He didn’t need much though, honestly, and repeated Spock’s name aloud now, the dark of their quarters lost to Spock at his prostrate and the wave of pleasure that suddenly knocked him off balance- encapsulating him in everything so intensely he thought he might have bruised Spock. His lover thrust once more, utilising those handy mental barriers of his so that he could join Jim almost instantly.

 

 

Jim woke to his alarm and glared at it, wide awake in an instant,  remembering all the responsibility that came with waking up that morning. God, he’d happily go back in time five hours and repeat his night with Spock for the rest of eternity instead. He turned the alarm off, rolling over into Spock’s arms for what could only be a brief embrace.

“Good morning, Jim.” Jim smiled at the greeting, how adorable his sleepy Vulcan was. How pleasant it was to wake in the morning to his dearest, most hottest and incredible love.

“Good morning, Spock. Ready?”

“I find myself reluctant to wish to depart the bed this morning.” He admitted, but he was regaining his control rapidly right before Jim’s eyes anyway. “In terms of  the emergency procedures drill, we are adequately prepared to meet expectations. If not surpass them.” Spock used his matter-of-fact voice, which was always a comfort to Jim - no matter the context. So he smiled serenely, and kissed his boyfriend.

“Come on then, Commander. Let’s do this.”

It was unfairly early, but Jim couldn’t bring himself to regret not sleeping more for an instant. They dressed quickly, in silence, taking it in turns to use the bathroom. Jim emerged second, hair combed and face splashed with cold water, to a cup of coffee. He thanked Spock and downed it in four large gulps, the heat of it travelling down to his stomach. Jesus, he needed it.

He sat at his desk and loaded the file on his computer, setting the emergency circumstances into place. He looked briefly at Spock, who was crisp and clean, stood by the doorway with a neutral expression. He was prepared for this, and Jim was too. Even if he’d have preferred breakfast in bed and a lazy morning with his boyfriend.

Wincing to prepare himself for the screeching noise to come, Jim took a deep breath and pressed the red alert.


End file.
